


banged up (grounded)

by peterspajamas



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: A LOT OF HURT COMFORT, Angst, Crying, Crying Steve Rogers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Hurt Steve Rogers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Injuries, Mission Fic, Nightmares, Protective Tony Stark, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers-centric, scared steve rogers, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:54:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28443501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterspajamas/pseuds/peterspajamas
Summary: It was just the two of them, on the mission. Holed up in their bunk at SHIELD, trekking up the mountain every day to search through HYDRA's old files. This wasn't Steve's first time making the hike, and it wasn't his last, but this time, Tony was sleeping late and he was alone.And Steve fell, right down the cliff.Tony picked him up, yeah, but he could only pretend he was fine until midnight hit.or: after a bad ordeal on a hike up the mountain, Steve breaks down at night, but solid, steady Tony is more than willing to hold him close.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 8
Kudos: 76





	banged up (grounded)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [michellejones_stacy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/michellejones_stacy/gifts).



> here's the ask that prompted this (it was on anon!!) and then a lil bit of meta, feel free to skip to the last paragraph for warnings :)  
> -i've always seen a lot of things where Tony is the openly clingy one in his and Steve's relationship and Steve is the one that's exasperatedly fond of it, but have you considered Steve waking up in the middle of the night, memories of watching Bucky fall fresh in his mind and sending a spike through his heart, and he wraps his arms around Tony so so tight– but not super tight cause, ahem, supersoldier– until morning, not wanting to let go until the moment the crushing weight on his chest lifts, however slight the amount, and he can breathe, and all the while Tony is just letting it happen with a fond but sad smile on his face and love in his eyes and his heart aching for this man who feels so much and has lost so much at the same time, and for that one moment the both of them are secure in the present and the love they have for one another? cause i do-
> 
> Steve truly would have trouble relying on people! He would struggle with seeing Tony as someone that was THERE FOR HIM in a way that went past just having his back on the battlefield, or for light and sweet moments on dates, or being together in the biblical sense. He doesn’t understand that Tony is in it for more than that. He really doesn’t. 
> 
> Steve just fights and fights and fights. He doesn’t stop and he doesn’t want other people to take care of him. He wants to be taken care of but. there is no way for him to choose that, to choose vulnerability, because he has simply never learned. 
> 
> _____________
> 
> I’m going to put a warning here for heights, and for falling. Another warning that might be applicable is mild blood/injuries (Steve is _shaken_ from these things, not actually hurt. as for the blood, it’s a cut and a scrape)) THAT SAID: he is incredibly shaken.
> 
> Also a super non-graphic nightmare about typical Steve things: the ice, Bucky <3 hope you all are having a good day! Very hurt/comfort

_____________

Steve was all. All- 

They’re on a mission, right? Not a terribly long one, but it really was just the two of them, waking up at the SHIELD facility and making the daily trek up into an ancient HYDRA base to delve into all of their old information, excavate it from the file room in disrepair. It was nearer to the top of the mountain than he’d like. 

A lot nearer, maybe. Steve thrusted his walking stick into what was turning into a sheer rock wall. Always the worst part of the journey. Every muscle in his body not devoted to making him stick on the wall was working overtime to keep his shallow breathing from shutting off completely. He took another step, carefully maneuvering to the single ledge. He was really just rock climbing now, huh? He grunted. 

Staring entirely at the rock face in front of him, gray stone with large patches of dirt and some snow, he didn’t know how to feel. He swallowed; took a deep breath, wishing he hadn’t worn such light gear. He was cold. Just so... cold. He adjusted his foot, fitting one boot into the groove that seemed to be holding up his entire body. A pebble skittered down the cliff. His breath stuttered. 

Steve forced himself one more step up. This was the _4th_ day that he had done this. He was fine, he was experienced. He looked down. Bad idea. 

One of his hands was trembling, badly, and his legs were shivering, too, with cold. (with fear?) He was shivering, clinging to this wall, and there was nowhere to go but up. His mouth opened as he sucked in a breath, letting it out in spurts of oxygen. Tony was sleeping in. So Steve was alone out here. There was about a 10 foot drop, and then it got steeper, because the trail wrapped around itself, snaking in little switchbacks full of gravel and- and peril. 

Nowhere to go but up, he told himself, pressing the shaking hand to his heart in a fist. It was pounding. The only thing he could hear. He shifted his weight, trying to find the courage to get himself up there, to keep climbing the way he should, but he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t even move. He was stuck. Most of his body was still plastered to the rock wall and most of it was still frozen. 

Eyes closed, he reached up for the next handhold, scrabbling slightly. He got ahold of it, that hand still moving back and forth, a physical _shake_ like he hadn’t gotten since the time with the fever, that winter where Ma had lost her job for a few months and they hadn’t eaten. But he wasn’t starving, just- just succumbing to stupid fear. 

But Steve was lightheaded, or, or out of his head, like someone had reached in and plucked all the good stuff out. His knees were knocking together, shaking. His hand slipped. 

And so did Steve. Grabbing for anything, a rock cutting his hand, he tumbled down, hitting the path on his side. He closed his eyes, mouth open and breath spilling out. He just, he sat there, trying to breathe as he shoved himself back, hands clawing at his arms. His walking stick was gone. 

He decided he was going to stay here forever. He couldn’t move. Go up or down the path. He wouldn’t decide whether to back down- coward- or keep walking, like he was superhuman and his whole body wasn’t aching. The gash in his hand from the rock, the scrape bleeding slightly from his cheek. It took everything in him not to cry, and he wouldn’t do that. Not ever. He’d rather waste away, here on an icy cliff edge, than cry. 

That’s what he did. Slumped into a dirty patch of snow, hands holding tight to the earth, Steve sat there, watching the sun rise up more and more. Trying to- to calm down. It was only when a rainbow peeked out of the typical mountain clouds that he jerked out of his fugue, scrambling to his feet. Tony was almost certainly awake by now. 

Slow steps into the slushy ground, and eyes fixed on his hands, Steve climbed up the mountain again. Step by step, each one a little bit of torture to numbed feet. “Hey, Cap, need an assist?” Tony’s playful voice broke his concentration and Steve turned around. 

He teetered, too off balance and clutching the side of the mountain. “Sure, shellhead.” Did that voice... did it feel confident enough? 

With faceplate down, Tony gave no indication either way as he swooped down, grabbing one of Steve’s forearms. “Hop on. Feet on mine,” he said. Steve nodded, stepping off and guiding his foot onto Tony’s. 

“Sorry,” he murmured, wrapping both arms around Tony’s chest. He had to shrink down a little, because they were just about the exact same height, with Tony in the suit. 

“No problem, you know how I like carrying you, Steve,” Tony said, securing Steve in his arms. 

Instead of a response, he received a quiet exhale. Steve laid on his cheek on the side of the helmet, closing his eyes. Smoothly, the suit glided up to the old base. Tony landed gently outside the door. Steve stepped off the suit, untethered again, and slouched next to the reinforced steel door. “You know the code?” he checked. 

“I do.” Four beeps in quick succession, and the door swung open. Tony glanced at him. “You look cold, Steve.” 

“Oh, you know... uh, the mountain,” he said, walking in. Without turning around, he knew that the Iron Man suit was coming off. Just from the sounds. 

It reminded him a lot of nights at home. Ones where the Iron Man suit acted as transport to their date, ones where Tony was coming home and Steve was watching, inside, as he landed on the balcony and came to kiss Steve. It reminded him of after missions, finally letting go. He swallowed. 

“Need some heat?” Tony asked, rubbing at his arm. 

Steve laughed, despite himself. “C’mon, in a HYDRA base? Really?” But he knew what Tony was asking, and he walked over, cursing the way his legs had turned weak, to lock his arms around Tony’s body. 

They didn’t hug for a long time, not more than a minute, but it had Steve’s head tucked in, arms wrapped all the way around. He was the one to remove himself, stepping back. “What are we looking for today?” 

“Information on the Mutation Experiments,” Tony said, falling into step beside him. “With those new operatives, uh, we’re looking for the status quo.” 

Steve nodded. “And we’re sure it hasn’t changed?” 

Tony snorted, a flash of bitterness on his face. “Fascism tends to stick to the same thing, again and again.” 

Steve sighed. “You don’t have to remind me.” They continued on their path, and the futile hope that the mission would start wrapping up soon crossed his mind. 

Not likely. 

__________________

Much to Steve’s relief, Tony had pretended not to notice how terribly shaken up he was from the morning. Part of him wanted to keep quiet, because Tony wouldn’t want to listen, but another part of him scoffed at that. Tony, by all rights, was a really good boyfriend. It was just stupid to entertain the fact that he would not be there for Steve, there no matter what. 

Tony flew them back down the mountain. It was a relief. 

They made small talk over a nostalgic meal of meat and beans with little slices of yam and cooked carrot. Steve always wanted to laugh when he saw the meals, hit by memories of Bucky and his endless complaints about the dreaded C-rations. Steve had hated them equally, and he usually got 2 or 3 because of the nice old doctor that insisted on his high calorie count. After the ice, Tony had done tests and confirmed how many Steve needed. 

Either way, memories aside, he didn’t feel the same thing when he looked at dinner, today. He just sat down and tucked into the meal, nodding along to Tony’s passionate ramblings on the old scientists’ capabilities. It was just the two of them on this mission, and a small staff of SHIELD’s agents that were stationed out here. 

“People have said, over the years, that Hydra’s scientists were ahead of their time.” Tony shook his head. “I know ahead of this time, alright? My father, hate him or love him, was ahead of his time. This technology is just representative of a bloated budget,” he said in disgust. 

“The Howlies and I, we’d take out a base with no casualties on our side. Why was that? Well, it was Erskine’s serum, and it was your father, his weapons. Guns and things.” Steve folded the napkin in his lap, keeping his hands under the table. 

“See? I’m right.” 

Steve chuckled. “You always think you’re right,” he replied. His voice wasn’t really small, that wasn’t usually how it worked, but it was quieter than usual, more lost in distance. 

“I always _am_ right,” Tony countered. “Are you done?” 

“Hm? Oh, yeah,” he said pushing his plate away. It was scraped clean. “Are you ready to go?” 

“Absolutely. Just waiting on you, sweetheart,” Tony said, skirting the edge of the table and dropping his plate with the dishwashers. “Thank you,” he said, smiling at her. 

Steve didn’t say much, just murmured his thanks and took off down the hallway. They were sharing a room, but not a bed. SHIELD didn’t have rooms for couples, and certainly not in a place this small. It was bunk beds, which meant Steve couldn’t just push the bed frames together. _That_ got his back up. “Are you still cold from this morning?” Tony asked him. “I feel like i am.” 

“Oh,” Steve said, playing along. “That’s too bad.” 

“Brr,” Tony said flatly. He stared, expectant, until Steve smiled and gave in. 

“If you wanted to hold hands, you only needed to ask.” Steve slipped his palm into Tony’s grip. “Oh, God, you are cold!”

“Yeah, someone’s been cheaping out on the heat,” Tony grumbled, staring pointedly at a camera. “Probably using the money to buy more things like Hulk proof cages and illegal weapons.” 

“Bruce likes the Hulk cage, though, doesn’t he? It can stay,” Steve said, staring a moment too long out the window. Tony didn’t notice, not one bit. This base wasn’t set as high as the HYDRA one, but it had its share of steep drop offs and sheer cliffs, too. They were very good protection against anyone on foot or by vehicle. 

“You’re right,” Tony muttered. “But I’ve made it better than Fury, Bruce doesn’t need it,” he sniffed. 

They walked into the room. “Are you going to sleep right away? I’m tired as all get out,” Steve said, already hoisting himself up to the bunk and shimmying his pants off so he could get into a pair of sweatpants. 

“Probably I’ll stay up a little later, if it won’t bother you?” Tony glanced up from his phone. 

“No, it won’t.” Steve felt all faded. Wanted nothing more than to cram himself into Tony’s bed and stick to him like glue. But that wasn’t happening, not here. “Goodnight.” 

And Tony glanced up at him, soft eyes. “Sweet dreams, Steve.” 

__________________

Steve didn’t remember much of the dream, none of it kept in his brain. What he _did_ keep was the pounding heart, the dry throat swallowing around nothing, sweat soaked sheets. Bucky, climbing with him and Steve was trying not to cry again, but this time he was failing. 

His dreams could be painfully vivid. He rolled over, facing the wall, but it made him feel worse. He couldn’t be up. He couldn’t do this. Steve pushed the blankets off his legs, swinging towards the edge of the bed. He landed on the floor with a quiet _thump_. “Steve?” 

Tony was lit by the blue glow of his phone. He looked so worried, so Steve forced a smile. “Sorry,” he whispered. “Can I-” And Tony didn’t say a word, just looked hurt, hurt on Steve’s behalf, _for_ him. 

Steve scooped Tony into his arms, crawling under the covers with him. The phone light died and it went somewhere else. This was what he had wanted, all day. Human heartbeats, they worked in tandem, and he relaxed the longer he tried to match Tony, clutching tight at him. Steve sighed, snuffling, into Tony’s shoulder and shoved the emotions away. Tony let Steve hold him, even encouraged it on the rare days he was feeling extra affectionate. How long had it really taken for Steve to get it into his heart? Months, probably. 

“What happened?” Tony whispered. 

Steve laughed, angry at himself. It was stupid. “I fell. Down the path, on the way up.” 

“ _What_?” 

That was real panic. Steve tilted his head, kissing Tony’s jaw. “It’s nothing.” He could practically _feel_ how badly Tony wanted to talk over him, talk and talk. “Just.” Instead of finishing his words, he curled even _more_ into Tony. 

“Cap...”

“Shellhead.” He was breathless, one hand reaching up to hide his eyes. “I miss Bucky, God,” he said wetly. 

Tony nodded, finally turning over. They lay like that, all night, back to chest, with Steve on the side with a wall, grounded. He slept lightly, waking up every hour like clockwork and checking to see Tony snuggled right in his arms. Steve didn’t want to break him, because Tony was strong but you had to be gentle with him, physically, so the hold wasn’t full strength like he’d use on an enemy. 

And at some point, his chest opened, aching, and he cried a few blurry tears into the dark, and Tony sat up at the commotion. “Steve,” he said softly, on a breath, “What d’you need?” he mumbled. 

Steve had stopped crying, by then, focused on the way his hands held each side of Tony’s face, some sort of- romance novel-esque tenderness. “Thank you. Needed this.” He pushed at a lock of Tony’s hair, half smiling. 

Tony groaned half heartedly, leaning back and really opening his eyes. “Well, you know what they say, Tony Stark, his bed is open to everyone.” 

Steve huffed out a laugh. “Come here.” Tony went willingly into his arms; Steve was learning to appreciate the tiny bed that had them squished together. The tickle of Tony’s hair anchored him, and his heartbeat, too. 

He couldn’t picture Bucky’s face anymore, the agony on it, all he remembered was the same old guy who used to give Steve his cigarettes and try an’ say hi to every lady walking by. He twisted one of his hands around Tony’s wrist, tucking him back into his chest. “Greedy cuddle-” Tony yawned, head tipping to the pillow. “Love you.” 

His last thought, before getting back to sleep, it was a whisper not a shout. _You let Bucky fall_. 

Chasing after that was the knowledge of Tony’s even breath, of Steve’s warm toes, of something he would have never even hoped for in the 40s.

______________

**Author's Note:**

> if you liked this at all, even just a kudos would be so nice to see! 
> 
> the easiest way to make my day is to leave a comment, even if it's just something you noticed or like... a bunch of emojis!!


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